


Prompts, Plot Bunnies and Stray Threads

by Drazyrohk



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Non-Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Shapeshifting, Spark Sexual Interfacing, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 14:07:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5294111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drazyrohk/pseuds/Drazyrohk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles for when the plot bunnies won't stop biting. Ratings and tags will change as more chapters are added.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Transformers Prime  
> Bumblebee/Ratchet
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Some robot feels and non-explicit sticky sex

A lot of things changed when Optimus died. Mostly, people changed. Ratchet changed. 

There had been a time when Bumblebee had approached him for help, for guidance, only to be turned away with the gentle urging to wait. The second time, he had been met with anger, frustration and disappointment. The third time, Ratchet finally told him it wasn’t just his age that was the problem. 

Optimus had meant more to Ratchet than to any of them. There was so much meaning behind the words ‘old friend.’ 

But now Optimus was gone and they were all grieving and Bumblebee wasn’t a young Scout anymore. 

So this time he was met with acceptance. There was no reluctance, there was only relief. Ratchet wanted something to help him forget. He needed a distraction. 

His gruff outer demeanor melted away, if only when they were together. He spoke softly, encouragingly. “I’ve got you.” He promised, hands holding Bumblebee’s hips so he didn’t slide off his lap, supporting him and guiding him. “That’s it, you’re doing great.” 

Venting quick, Bumblebee would curl fingers into the medic’s chest plates. Ratchet let him set the pace, and he would rock into the red and white frame with quiet desperation. Every so often, Ratchet would move his own hips and shift the angle and make him cry out. The older mech would then hush him gently, smooth his scrunched up face with one hand. 

“It’s alright.” He said. “Take all you need. I’ve got you.” 

Bumblebee worried at first that Ratchet wouldn’t be able to keep up with his request for more, but the medic was more than accommodating. If Bee timed it right, Ratchet never said no. Soon there wasn’t anywhere in the old Earth base that they hadn’t interfaced, but the medic always let Bumblebee come to him. He never instigated. It suited Bee just fine. 

But one night, a year after Optimus’ death, his door opened when he was almost in recharge. Startling and sitting up, Bumblebee found himself looking at an extremely inebriated Ratchet. One look at the medic’s face told the former Scout everything he needed to know. 

Without a word, he took Ratchet into his berth. Bee let Ratchet press him down as he muttered bitter and heartbroken words that weren’t meant for the former Scout, and he remained silent. He let the older mech take him and take him until he fell into restless, exhausted recharge. 

Bumblebee held him in the quiet that followed, kept him safe and protected him the same way Ratchet had done for him all these long years.


	2. Held Captive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tranformers Animated  
> Shockwave/Longarm Prime, Blurr  
> Rated G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed to practice. Harutemu is the absolute worst influence in the best of ways.

The guards rarely allowed the prisoners of the Trypticon Correctional Facility to have visitors. Considering it was where the Autobots locked up the worst of the worst, like Shockwave, that wasn’t entirely surprising.

What was surprising was to be presented with the revelation that someone had come to speak to him. The spymaster didn’t bother moving from where he sat on the meager berth that was in his cell, regarding the guard outside blandly. 

“Another interrogation?” Shockwave asked, the guard simply shrugging in response. “Very well. I haven’t had any entertainment since being placed here, so in my boredom I will acquiesce to a visit. Tell whomever it is to give me their best shot.” 

Frowning at the much bigger mech, the guard moved away. When he returned, he was accompanied by the last mech that Shockwave had expected to see. If he had been a superstitious organism, he would have thought he was seeing a ghost.

An incredibly familiar face wearing an unfamiliar expression, slender frame far more still than he had ever seen it before, fists clenched in fury… it seemed impossible, but if the guard could see what he was seeing then it wasn’t a ghost at all. It was Blurr. Agent Blurr, whom he had killed personally and seen disposed off. 

After a long, tense moment of staring, Blurr turned to look at the guard. He didn’t speak, which was astonishing since it had always been difficult to get the small mech to shut up, but conveyed despite his silence that he wanted to be alone with Shockwave. 

Hesitating briefly, the guard again nodded before stepping away.

Turning back to face Shockwave, Blurr resumed his silent scowling. Shockwave was beginning to wonder if during his miraculous recovery from being crushed to death, Blurr’s vocalizer had been too damaged to save. 

“I wouldn’t expect you to be foolish enough to try and ask me why.” Shockwave said, his red optic narrowing slightly. “I was an agent, just like you. We take our secrets to the grave.” 

The inhibitor cuff they had on his leg kept him from transforming, which meant he couldn’t use his shapeshifting abilities. It would have been amusing to see Blurr’s reaction to being faced with his comrade, Longarm Prime. Maybe he would have even gotten angry with him, angry enough to start shouting in that ridiculously fast way he always did. 

It was strange, but the silence was beginning to disturb him. 

“Come now, Blurr…” If Shockwave could smile, he would be grinning. Since the inhibitor cuff did nothing to stop him from changing his voice, seeing as it was training that let him do that, he began using the smooth, earnest tones of Longarm. “Nothing at all to say to your old friend?”

It did the trick, but instead of the rapid fire tirade that he had been expecting, Shockwave was treated to three words. Only three. 

“I trusted you.” Blurr’s expression shifted from anger to betrayal to anguish, and his still frame began trembling. With those three words, Blurr said more than he ever had before. 

Standing, Shockwave moved to the bars, standing just short of them so he didn’t accidentally trigger the charge that moved through them. He lowered his helm to look Blurr straight in the optics. 

“And whose fault is that, little Autobot? I suppose you could say it was mine, but I’m not sure you want to give me that kind of credit.” He said in a soft voice in which one could practically hear his broad smile. “By the way, it’s so good to see you. I always liked you, Blurr. You were the best agent any Director of Security could have asked for. It really pained me to have to kill you.” 

Now the skinny mech before him was beginning to vent hard, little chest rising and falling rapidly, optics beginning to crowd with fluid. The trembling had turned into something more akin to full body vibration. 

“Run along before you do something you regret.” Shockwave said. “If you get the urge to visit again, don’t hesitate. There isn’t much to do in here, after all. Seeing that watery look in your optics, that horrified expression of betrayal, that shaky, gut wrenching hatred is good for my spark.” 

He stepped back without taking his optic off of Blurr, seating himself on his berth once again. He didn’t expect there to be anymore conversation. Even being locked up like this and at the mercy of the Autobots, Shockwave knew a victory when he saw one.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Transformers Prime  
> Miko and Smokescreen
> 
> Warnings for this Chapter:   
> Xenophilia  
> Dubious Consent  
> Non-explicit non-sticky sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning being placed here for xenophilia, and slight dub-con. Human on Transformer non-sticky action! Takes place a few years after the Prime series ends.

Smokescreen looked warily at her as she perched atop him in the Apex Armor. She was kicking her feet playfully and tracing all the various scars, stripes and grooves on his chassis, her mouth turned up in a smile.

“Y’know, I always wondered what your spark looks like.” Miko mused, Smokescreen raising an optic ridge. “Show me?” 

“I dunno. That’s sorta like a human guy flashing his fleshy bits at you.” He said, Miko giggling.

“I’m legal.” She protested with a laugh. “I can choose to look at fleshy bits.” 

“I still don’t really know if it’s appropriate.” Smokescreen shifted beneath the human nervously. “Ratchet’d kill me. And Bulkhead and Wheeljack would do worse!” 

“Then don’t tell them.” Miko said in a tone that indicated it should be obvious. “C’mon Smokey, it’s not gonna hurt to let me have a peek.” 

“O-okay, okay…” Smokescreen chewed on his bottom lip nervously, took a quick glance around, then sighed and slowly parted his chest plates.

Miko’s eyes lit up. “Whoa.” She murmured, reaching a hand out and brushing fingers across the surface of his spark. A tremor ran through him and he vented sharply. “Sorry. Did that hurt?” 

“Maybe you shouldn’t touch it.” Smokescreen said, a hint of static in his voice. “It’s… not appropriate.” 

“You keep saying that.” Miko’s tone was teasing. She traced her hand over his spark again, then got on her knees, one resting on either side of Smokescreen’s hips. “I’m just expressing my curiosity, Smokescreen.” 

Both her hands reached in and cupped his spark, Smokescreen arching with a gasp. Miko put light pressure on it, then raked her fingers across its surface. 

“Haah! M-miko!” Smokescreen panted. He squirmed to try and escape her but that just made her tighten her legs around him and stroke harder. “Oh frag! Miko, we really sh-shouldn’t-”

“Relax. You’re enjoying it, right?” She asked, Smokescreen spitting static when she began tracing his spark chamber with one hand while massaging the spark itself with the other. “You seem really turned on.” 

“Hnn… H-haaah!” Smokescreen arched again, bucking wildly when he hit overload without being able to stop it. 

Charge rippled over him. The smell of heated metal and ozone filled the space around them. His spark pulsed rapidly and brightly. 

When he collapsed back, panting, Miko made a soft noise of appreciation. 

“Whoa. That… was intense.” She giggled. Her hand strayed over his spark again, her grin turning wicked. “Wanna do it again?” 

Staring up at her, Smokescreen groaned and put a hand over his optics. There was a beat, then another, then he moaned miserably. “Yes.” He confessed, faceplates heating. “Oh man, Ratchet’s gonna kill me…”


End file.
